Styles P Talking:
"Yo I rock the f**k out
I dont know bout everyone else"

Verse 1 - Styles P

Whatever we dont make, we gona take mof**ker
Get this straight and fix your face
I ain't gotta sell millions. Im in the buildins
With poppy comin thru with them bricks by eight
Listen cocksucker and clown
Ill be leaving you cut
Youre like a dutch hound, bustin ya down
N***as driving in a circle wit your hoe in the back
Be the only damn way Ill be f**kin around
And I'm aiming for yo waist, hopin you duck
So i can bust you in the head when im buckin tha pound
And I told you that Im holiday Styles
Lets celebrate
Heard you gettin money, Ill rob you right now
And you gon get popped in the head
True Story
Crips do they thing in blue, bloods pop off in red
Me, I'm on the move only stopping for bread
Double R and D-Block n***a, copper and lead
Whaddup!

Styles P Talking:
"Stay in the zone"

Verse 2 - Styles P

I dont know why the f**k you amped yo
Got hoodrat bitches carryin birds on the public transpo
N***as in the hood that go out like Rambo
They hot since 138th had that ???
Young Buck, Dumb F**k

Two Gunz up, ride or die til the suns up
Gangsta and a Gentleman dogg
I got class, Ima send a bunch a roses to your men in tha morgue
Ill be down south bendin a whore
(Ten in the morn)Pretendin im on
(Dirty) Thirty on eighty-five like J-Bo and Sean Paul
Beef wit New York rappers, I'm killin em all
On my Slick Rick shit, y'all could lick the balls
I been cool 'cause (these) n***as is (ass.)asthma
(But)F**k that, might as well call me pool 'cause im (givin')gettin splash.ed
And that Lamborghini liftin tha stash
Even gettin the mass while some haze (to mix) be mixed wit the hash
Whaddup!

J-Hood Talking:
"Pass that blunt n***a"

Verse 3 - J-Hood

Im in the hood where the eggs get knocked off
Gangmembers find they family members with both of they legs chopped off
N***as ain't scrappin, they bangin ya
The judge dont need a tree branch when they hangin ya
All y'all fags'll get ate like clams
This is a blood sport bitch, You could call me J Van Dam
All these so called "Guerrillas" be tellin'
How a rat goin' give you thoughts of a predicate felon. Motherf**ker
Homie, what you want, the blade or the slug
Im the one that send the order when they sprayed up the club
Bitch n***a, bow your head in the presence of G's
Load the lead up and squeeze
Im a great dane, n***as is fleas
F**kin rats can't wait to call cops
Til I make em sick and put pellets in they mouth like cough drops
J-Hood bitch, my name rang in the ghetto
'cause im O.G. and I play the streetz like a chello